For the Love of Tomeri...(23June2004)

[simmo]

chapter 6 Too Many Choices

"Gents I've changed my mind. I want to go home." Serena stated shortly after Deus had gone upstairs.

"Hmm,” Malkir groaned inwardly knowing that such a venture would end badly. “Planning some kind of confrontation with mother?" He asked.

"She's not my mother,” the seer replied acidly. The other discussed briefly their options for where to go next and could not come to a unanimous decision.

"Well if you have plans then I am happy to travel home myself," Serena told her friends. Her psicrystal sent her a brief metal image of Miranda Allman surrounded by hordes of soldiers, but Serena simply sent back that she would mentally blast them all to oblivion.

Littleby too feared that Serena's trip home would not be successful and had come up with an idea quickly. "I realise that you have a desire to get back to Lammed but turning up there with us is one thing,” he said in a concerned voice. “Turning up their with Danster is another."

"That is a very good point,” Serena replied not being dissuaded easily. “But the thing about Miranda is this, she has a plan. That plan involves a time-scale and if we arrive too late then a lot of people are going to die. That is my great fear. As far as I can tell she is planning an illithid invasion of my continent. If not also planning to bring to life an evil dead god."

"Here's an idea,” Littleby suggested. “Deus knows people who know where Timlin is. There is no point in me trying to talk to him due to my faction affiliations, but one of you could talk to him."

"I could.” Serena volunteered. “I work for his cousin... well long lost descendent anyway." She laughed briefly.

"So that is what I reckon, go with Deus.” Littleby was glad to see that Serena was beginning to change her mind about going to face her evil step-mother single-handedly. “Follow the modrons and hopefully get to meet Timlin or get to find someone who knows more about the Expansionists."

"Alright,” Serena agreed. “Danster left Tal'Nattan to get help. That is the first thing that we know. He was captured by the Harmonium almost immediately."

"Almost immediately?" Malkir asked.

"That is unknown.” The petite seer shrugged. “But we do know that he was not held in their custody for long before being taken to the Negative Energy Plane. If he's there still or not, I'll have to look for him tonight."

"Here is the funny thing,” Littleby thought aloud. “Orroloth, the arcanoloth, wanted us to get the sword that belonged to Vartus Timlin."

"Yes, I think that we can probably infer from that the fact that he does not like Vartus Timlin much or the Expansionists." Serena felt a chill going down her spine even thinking about the Orroloth. She knew that there was something wrong about him, aside from the obvious fact that he was an arcanoloth, but she could not put her finger on it.

"Well, not necessarily.” Littleby had realised from past experience that Serena had great intuition, but was prone to making invalid leaps of logic as well. “If it was him that hired someone else to get the sword out, then he has let him go."

"That's true enough.” Serena sighed and played with her silver locket for awhile. “But how do you get someone out of a maze? It's a maze."

"There are people who sell maps of the mazes." Andrew replied. He'd heard of someone called Djhek'Nlarr from Ashenbach and it was claimed that this person sold maps.

"Maps of The Lady of Pain's mazes? Right.” Serena dismissed the idea as preposterous. “I don't believe that for a second."

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

And now we come to the least pleasant revelation of the whole campaign so far, in the next post or so...argh.

Oh well, at least some of our more fanciful speculation turned out to be wrong.

 

[simmo]

Tallarn - there are many more unpleasant revelations to come, but also some pleasant ones. That bit of speculation at the end of last session cuaght me quite off guard . Hopefully I'll be able to post Part 15 tomorrow. In the mean time, here is another WITA (we interrupt this adventure).

Faced with many choices about what to do next, Serena closed her eyes and tried to sort out the tangled strands events in her life. Visions of the past, present and future struggled try to force their way in to her seat of consciousness, each seeking to be played out in her mind's eye. Overcome by exhaustion the seer lowers her defences momentarily and a vision asserts itself so quickly that her consciousness is almost swept away by it.

We Interrupt This Adventure to bring you a vision by Serena

[Note: this chapter was written by Randomling, who plays Serena Allman]

Fading Stars, Departing Friends

The stars melt, and Serena is falling again, the sinking feeling deepening as she drops through the darkness. There is no light to speak of, but slowly the darkness seems to fade, the intensity, the brightness of the stars, all bleeding out to a chilly, toneless grey. The sinking feeling goes, but she can barely feel the ground under her feet. There are whispers in the air, and she keeps thinking she catches the sound of her name.

There is a whisper of movement to one side of her which she sees out of the corner of her eye. She turns. Littleby is there, crawling, barely moving, his face grey, huddled under a blanket, the gem from his forehead gone. He chokes, trying to speak, and meets her eyes. She reaches out to him, light extending toward him from her hands, but as the beams of her love find him darkness falls like a knife and she gasps with the impact. When she can see again, Malkir is standing in front of her, hands outstretched.

 

[simmo]

Part 15 Fate Takes a Hand

chapter 1 Broken Promises

After Deus had retired upstairs, the others stayed in the tavern and ordered another round of drinks. It took awhile before the drinks were finally brought over by a sullen looking inn-keeper and many of the other patrons retired to the houses.

"As far as I can tell it, the important organisations include number one the Expansionists," Serena tried to make sense of what was going on by summarizing recent events. "Number two is whoever my mother is working with. Now as far as I can tell she is planning an illithid invasion of Tal'Nattan. Danster, who is a member of the Expansionists, was trying to prevent that." The seer played with her wine glass but did not drink any of it. "That puts those two organisations diametrically opposed. Orroloth is working with my mother. Or at least my mother has used him for something. Yes, he could be deep, deep involved in intrigue. But is he going to be helping both sides? Probably yes."

"We don't know if he was the one who hired the group that actually got Timlin out," Littleby pointed out.

"We do know is that he wrote that contract on my father." Serena signed and wondered how many other unfortunates were trapped inside the Orroloth's contracts.

"Right," Littleby commented. "Because your step-mother asked him to."

"Yes," the seer tried the wine that the innkeeper had brought and was pleasantly surprised by how good it was. "Because my step-mother paid him to I would imagine."

"Well, the Harmonium said that he was an ally of hers. But it might just mean that he wrote a contract that aided her." Littleby was aware that Serena sometimes made connections were none existed. "But that does not mean that they share the same goals."

"No," Serena said. "Absolutely she paid him to do a job and he did it. The matter could be that simple."

"What do you plan to do if you go back home?" Malkir asked.

"Kill her," the heart seer of Tomeri replied without pause.

"How?" the mystic asked. Curious to find out if Serena had any kind of plan.

"That is a good question." The seer sighed and thought about what it would be like to see her step-mother dead.

The innkeeper was in the process of cleaning up some of the tables and closing the bar when an old man walked in to the tavern. The elderly man wore what once had been a fine set of clothes. The clothes were now frayed at the edges and stained in several places. He smiled as her stepped across the threshold in to the inn and walked slowly across the floor to sit at an empty table near the companions.

"Malkir," the old man said after he'd sat down.

"Yes," the mystic replied somewhat surprised to be addressed by the old man.

"Malkir, how good is your memory these days?" The old man spoke in a familiar and friendly tone as if the tow had known each other for a very long time.

"Pretty good," the mystic replied, unsure of where these questions were heading.

"Do you remember that things I asked you?" The old man smiled, but this time the mystic could see that the smile did not quite reach the old man's eyes. Those were cold and hard as the roots of the mountains.

Malkir recognised the old man as being the traveller that they'd met in Elysium when they first arrived on the planes. He was the one whom they helped with his wagon and that was when they had run across Littleby. After Serena had spent some time in the realm of Tomeri and been made a Chosen of Tomeri, the old man had accompanied them to the Outlands city of Automata.

"Do you remember that thing about me asking you to build something for me?" The old man made the question sound as if he was asking about a small favour that they'd agreed upon previously. Suddenly the mystic realised who and what the old man was and why he was asking these questions.

"Now that's interesting," Malkir said to the avatar of Nyon, small god of Fate and Prophecy. The mystic had never considered that the innocent looking merchant whom they'd helped might also be another form which the avatar of Nyon might take. He did not have long to think about this as the old man seemed intent upon making his point.

"I don't know why I bother, I honestly don't know." The old man sighed and it sounded as if he was letting out his final breath. For the first time since Malkir had met him, the old man actually looked very tired. Actually, a better word would be weary, the mystic thought. "You were visited by Crowson, weren't you?" The old man asked knowing what the answer would be.

"Uhu." Malkir did not bother to answer the question properly as he knew that it was a rhetorical one
.
"Now Crowson is a meddler." The old man put a strong emphasis on the last word. "Meddler." He said again to repeat his point. "That is a bad thing. I am not a meddler, I try to make good things happen."

"At least he's not a knight of the post," Littleby muttered under his beard, not aware of who the old man was.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Serena said, knowing what kind of a deity Nyon was.

"So you did not do it and instead you Converged and Diverged," the old man made the comment more to himself that anyone else.

"And Diverged?" The mystic asked, feeling genuinely surprised.

"You did not think that you could hold on for long, did you?" The old man smiled, but this time it was not a pleasant or warm smile. He sighed and the sinister smile disappeared to be replaced by a weary and compassionate expression.

"It's why I sent him to you. Galen, an old man. Lives in Limbo. He gave you a riddle." The old man said each sentence slowly, waiting for the moment that Malkir would know who he was referring to. When he mentioned the riddle, Malkir's eyes lit up in recognition.

"The Githzerai," Malkir said, having just learned that his teacher-to-be was called Galen.

"Yes." The old man nodded his head, looking like an ancient teacher who is faced with a somewhat slow student.

"Yes," the mystic replied. "I met him." He recalled how the Githzerai and his followers had burst in to the house in Sigil, but understood that it was all part of a test.

"You see that is me trying to help you," the old merchant tried to get the inn-keepers attention about getting a drink, but the inn-keeper ignored him and retired upstairs.

"Right," Malkir said completely unconvinced.

"Do you remember what the riddle is about?" The old man asked, referring to the riddle that Galen gave to Malkir. "If I will not be for me, then who will be for me?" He quoted the first sentence of the riddle. "If I will be for me, then what am I?"

"And if not now then when," Malkir finished off the last sentence of the riddle.

"This is directly related to the Divergence. You have become you through the Convergence and now parts of you Diverge." The old man pulled out a small flask from his coat and took a swig from it. "If you'd built the Temple then you would have been fine. But no, you had to go with Crowson to the Tower and it all got messed up."

"Had you considered that lack of information made me go down this road?" The mystic asked, annoyed at being lectured to by Nyon, god of Fate and Destiny.

"Yes, but I didn't know how much your tiny brain could take." The old merchant answered the mystic's question as if he was talking down to a small child that he wished to make feel even smaller.

"Oh, personal insults." The mystic smiled, having managed to rile Nyon.

"Not insults." The old man put on his best wicked smile. "Just venting a little, you understand. Venting."

"I can understand venting," the mystic replied.

"Good," the old merchant stated, glad that they'd finally agreed upon something.

"You know that's very interesting." Serena joined in, having sat in silence watching the exchange between Malkir and the old man.

"Serena Allman," The old man stopped staring at the mystic and gave the seer a warm and welcoming smile. "What a pleasure it is to see you again."

"And you," the seer replied, it being furthest from the truth. "You say that you are not a meddler."

"Thank you for the help that you gave me with the wagon when it was stuck in the fields." The old merchant spoke in a less authoritative tone and more like a mind mannered elderly gentleman who was thanking a friend for a favour. "I would have been stuck there for some time if you had not helped me out."

The seer stared at him, displeasure clearly visible in her expression. "I don't buy your disguise."

"Oh this disguise, I'll have to get a new one." The old man laughed, as if his ruse had been seen through and his practical joke had been revealed. "I'll sell it to you. thirty gold? Perhaps not."

Littleby had been watching the entire time and was trying to figure out how Nyon had possessed the merchant called Agar. The old man's voice, expressions and mannerisms changed so quickly when he addressed wither Serena or Malkir, that he had trouble following who was who.

"It is Agar," Malkir said, seeing Littleby staring at the old man in confusion. "Just Nyon as well."

"That I am," the old man stood up and bowed with the grace of an experienced performer.

"Which is very interesting considering what you said just now," Serena commented.

"Anyway, thank you for you help with the wagon." The old man smiled warmly at Serena and his expression hardened to a angry glare as he turned back to Malkir. "So no temple then? I'll have to come up with something else. Something will work out. It's all for the best."

"Fate will have its way," the mystic stated as if that explained everything.

"Of course," the old merchant laughed heartily. "When your holding all the string, Fate will always have its way."

"Since meeting Crowson I've changed my mind about who is holding all the strings." The mystic's reply stopped the old man's laughter dead in its tracks.

The elderly merchant sat down again and did not look very pleased. As he did so he whispered to Malkir in a fierce voice. "Crowson has completely the wrong end of the stick."

 

[simmo]

chapter 2 Dealt a Bad Hand

The old man sat back down on his chair and for the first time noticed that there was another person sitting next to Littleby and Serena. "I'm sorry that you feel a little left out of the conversation," he said somewhat apologetically.

"That's OK," Andrew replied who was not bothered in the slightest about the old man and had up until that point been quite relieved that the elderly merchant had not spoken to him.

"These kind people once helped me with my wagon." The elderly merchant chuckled, making little pretence of the fact that everything he said and did was an act. In a way it reminded Littleby somewhat of A'kin. The arcanoloth could be very convincing, but there was something about the way that he spoke and acted that made it seem as if the shopkeeper was playing a little game that both he and the client were aware off.

"They don't seem very happy with the whole situation," Andrew studied the old man, noting how he went from being a wrathful old man towards Malkir and then a kindly, scatterbrained merchant to everyone else.

"No, so I hear." The old man sounded genuinely upset by this. "Well, at least some of them are doing what they are supposed to do."

"What they are supposed to do..." Andrew echoed the elderly merchant's comments. "By who's reckoning?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

"The hands of Fate." The elderly merchant made a motion of a circle with his hands, followed by outlining a hour glass with his fingers.

"Funny," Andrew chuckled dryly. "It sounds from here that you feel as if you are controlling the show."

"I like to take a little credit for things from time to time." The old man's mannerisms changed in the blink of an eye and he became less friendly or scatter-brained.

"That's what I thought. Can I ask you a small favour?" Andrew lent forward in his seat.

"Of course." The old man replied. He'd foreseen the question as well as the answers. Never the less he played out the encounter as it was supposed to be done. All for the Great Game.

"Just stay the hell away from me," Andrew said, giving the old man an intense glare.

"Of course, I plan not to interfere with you." The old man shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

"I appreciate that." Andrew sat back in his and went back to ignoring the old man.

"As long as you stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours." A deck of cards appeared in the old man's hands and he began to shuffle them. He drew a card, looked at it without any hint of surprise and then shuffled them some more.

"Time will tell." Andrew was unimpressed by the old man or his card tricks and hoped that he would leave all of them alone as soon as possible.

"You will do me the same favour," Serena stated.

The old man sighed and did not bother changing his speech or mannerisms to match that of an elderly and scatter-brained merchant. "Well Serena, as much as I'd like to we will eventually meet again." He paused and threw all of the cards up in the air. The deck flew straight up and came down again without them scattering everywhere. A single cards floated down after the others and Agar held up a queen of hearts. "You will come looking for me and the answer will be 'yes'. Regardless of what may happen between now and then. You will hate me more than anything else in your life, but I will help you. That is all very cryptic, but life is full of cryptic things. Like the riddle of identity. Like the riddle of the four forms of love."

"Nyon, you are full of screed." Serena got up and stormed up the stairs. "I'm going to bed."

Littleby settled the bill and went up to his room. Malkir and Andrew followed shortly afterwards, leaving the old man sitting at the table playing cards with himself. He was winning of course, but he already knew that this would happen. Very few things surprised the avatar of Nyon, god of Fate and Prophecy.

Upstairs in her room Serena climbed on to her bed and made herself comfortable. She placed a pillow behind her, closed her eyes and tried to picture an image of Vincent Danster, her former employer. Lesser thoughts and concerns drifted to the back of her mind and she saw in her minds eye Lord Danster huddled on the floor of a cold, dark and empty cell. The impression that she got from the room was that it was built out of Nothingness and leeched the life out of all those who came inside.

The heart seer of Tomeri looked around the room and saw a huddled form of a halfling that looked at lot like Deus, her former travelling companion, that she had run in to recently. The elderly halfling was also lying on the floor and he looked up at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

Serena tried to send Lord Danster a message in to his thoughts, but it felt as though she was talking in a empty room where her words bounced back unanswered. She drew closer to Lord Danster and through the grace of her status as a heart seer tried to find out what resided in Lord Danster's heart. When her awareness entered him, she found herself standing in a replica of the room with a small spark of light in the corner. It bobbed and weaved in a weak manner, barely holding together.

The heart seer of Tomeri realised that the light represented Lord Danster's awareness and personality, or at least what was left of it. For a brief moment she saw herself as Lord Danster perceived her and she was surprised by what she saw. Lord Danster saw Serena's face as if it was made out of porcelain, without a body underneath. But at the same time he did not believe her to be real. Serena watched with horror as Lord Danster's mind withdrew from hers, not believing that she or anything else was real.

When Serena's consciousness returned to her body, she felt intensely cold and immediately drew the covers of her bed around her. Even though she tried to fall asleep, Lord Danster's last thought haunted her waking moments and blessed sleep would not come.

 

[simmo]

We Interrupt This Adventure to share with you Serena's dreams...

[Note: this chapter was written by Randomling, who plays Serena Allman]

The Centre Cannot Hold, The Mystic Diverges

"Malkir?"

She says it with her mind first, then her voice. In the dark place her body is pulsating slightly with light. The grace of Tomeri is upon her, filling her with strength. Malkir's stocky body is slightly bent, his fingers hooked, claw-like, as they reach for her. His mouth moves soundlessly. Then he speaks.

"Serena," he says, and his voice is many voices. "Serena, help me." She takes a step towards him, and Tomeri's light vanishes from her body as a dark mist gathers around the two of them.

Malkir's form seems to pulsate a little, and she thinks for just a minute that he's going into a fit. Then she sees a face just like his appear superimposed on him, faint like a ghost image. The ghost image, armed and armoured, steps out of Malkir. Another appears, and another, and in moments the robed Malkir she has come to know is just one of hundreds of Malkirs, and she can't pick out which is real. All are ghost-images, barely there. She looks up. Then she hears the many voices cry out.

A ripple goes across the ghost-Malkirs, as if a stone had been dropped in a river, and one by one, the images start to shatter and fade. Serena rushes forward, but there is nothing to be done.

"Maaaaaalkiiiiiiiiir!" she cries, but it is as if she is watching herself from the outside.

A moment later, she is awake.

I am for me, she thinks again as she gets to her feet. Of all the things in her mind, it's Nyon's face that lingers most ominously. His words, the lack of expression in his hollow voice. Releasing her grasp on the Garden, Serena feels strangely afraid.

She looks out of her window at the dark sky above the town of Ecstasy. In a few of the houses the lights from lamps can still be seen, silhouetting the revellers who party late in to the night.

Her last thought, before she turns away from thoughts of her dream to the daily concerns of washing and dressing, prayer and meditation, is of her friends. Caleb's voice, Malkir's hands, Littleby's face.

 

[simmo]

chapter 3 Late Night Grit Cake Snacks

After her disturbing visions and seeing the same thing again when she tried to contact Lord Danster, Serena finally gave up on getting any sleep what so ever and decided to discuss some of her thoughts with her friends. She tip-toed out of her room and knocked on the dwarven scholars door.

"Littleby," Serena called out softly.

"Speak friend and enter," a muffled voice came from beyond the door.

"Friend!" Serena said, annoyed at her friend's question.

"How did you get on?" The dwarven scholar did not look like he had slept much and was in the process of clearing his tomes and scrolls off the bed.

"Well, our list of things to do just got longer." Serena signed and sat down on the edge of the bed. She wore only a night dress and a robe, but found that Littleby's room was a little colder and damper. "He's trapped on the Negative Energy Plane with Deus's father and saying that he is a shadow of a man does not come close to describing him. His personality has been almost entirely destroyed. I don't know how long he can last." She looked at Littleby hoping that he would have an easy answer, but the dwarven scholar shook his head at the news.

"I think that it is going to take a little bit of research." Littleby knew a great deal about Negation, but little about the 'geography' of the plane. He'd heard that the Dustmen had a stronghold on the plane somewhere and was curious to find out how it managed to stay in one piece.

"OK. I just..." Serena shivered and drew the robe closer to her body. "Do you know the feeling when you have about forty different things and they are all moving at the same time. If you let one slip then the whole world falls apart."

The dwarven scholar nodded his head in understanding and patted the seer on the arm, hoping to comfort her. "Sounds like mining," he said and though back to the days that he worked as a Junior Mineshaft Safety Inspector.

"Do you know what I mean?" Serena appreciated Littleby's support, but did not understand his mining reference. "Have we told you about Nyon?" The seer recalled seeing that Littleby had been somewhat confused with the encounter with Agar (who was also Nyon) downstairs.

"Bits and bobs, yes." Littleby replied.

"I don't think that Malkir would mind me telling you." Serena had met Nyon on their homeworld first of all, but was not aware of who he really was. They'd parted ways on the Outlands only to run in to Agar the merchant in Elysium shortly afterwards. It was not until tonight that Serena and Malkir discovered that Nyon and Agar were the same.

Serena left the room briefly to invite Malkir in to the conversation, but there was no reply from his room. On the way back she stopped at Andrew's door and knocked on it gently to see if he was awake or not.

"What?" came the annoyed response from beyond the door.

"Do you want to hear about this Nyon fellow?" Serena asked. She waited for a few moments for a response and was about to set off back to Littleby's when she heard movement inside the room.

"Yes, sure." Andrew popped his head briefly from behind the door. His hair and clothes looked out of place and he walked sleepily after Serena to the dwarven scholar's room.

"Grit Cake?" the dwarven scholar looked up as the two walked in to his room. He held up some food that had been wrapped in thick paper and had the consistency of mortar.

"How do you eat it?" Andrew asked, both fascinated by what it was and revolted by the idea of trying to ingest it.

"You chew it." The dwarven scholar moved his jaw in a slow chewing motion and pointed to his mouth with his fore finger.

"How?" Andrew asked, still not convinced that the strange mixture inside the packaging was edible.

"Carefully," Littleby replied. He'd almost lost a tooth downstairs whilst eating some grit cake when Agar had made certain revelations. In some families it was a tradition not to talk during meal times for this very reason as some long lasting injuries had resulted from dwarves being surprised by some news whilst eating grit cake.

"I don't think that I have the dental work for it." Andrew found an empty chair and slouched down in to it.

"As I was saying, it is safe to say that he helped us." Serena began. "Although he was cryptic the whole time and it took awhile before he told us who he really was. I am very sure that did not tell us the whole story and I'm very sure that he has an agenda that involves myself and Malkir. Possibly Deus and maybe even Orcus."

"This is the annoying old man that you are talking about." Andrew was still waking up and wanted to verify that whom Serena was talking about was the old man from downstairs.

"Yes, although he looked different before." Serena had for a while fallen for Nyon, small god of Fate and Nyon. He was dashing and mysterious as well as quite handsome. Now that she'd travelled somewhat and become a Chosen of Tomeri she'd changed and Nyon was no longer attractive in any way.

"Well, it sounds like you are involved," Andrew remarked.

"Absolutely." Serena replied not looking very happy about the whole situation. "As well as Malkir, the old Malkir..."

"It sounds like there are a lot of them," Andrew interjected.

"There are," she said with a wistful smile. "The Malkir that we knew before hand promised to build Nyon a Temple and name Nyon as his god. But this is a new Malkir."

"Who does not give a hoot about building Nyon a Temple." Andrew laughed, remembering how annoyed the old man had looked.

"Absolutely." Serena joined him laughing.

 

[simmo]

chapter 4 The Great Malkir March

Malkir walked in to the room and sat down on a small stool. He exchanged brief greetings with the others and they went back to their original discussion. Serena filled Malkir in on what they'd discussed before by summarizing it briefly.

"What about Nyon?" Andrew asked, curious to find out more about the small god of Fate and Destiny.

"Nyon is very weak," the seer said with a hint of sadness. "He is dying."

"Weak as in not strong or not powerful?" Andrew asked, confused by Serena's response.

"I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders and hugged a pillow to her chest. "He does not have many worshippers and is losing power."

"OK, so not powerful as opposed to weak." Andrew said clarifying Serena's comment.

"It sounds like another deity that we are dealing with right now," Littleby said having sat and listened in silence.

Serena gasped and sat up on the bed. "Now that is not something that has crossed my mind before."

"Well it is a god eat god world." Andrew quipped and they all laughed.

"That is a horrendously plausible idea." Malkir stated, banishing the laughter from the room.

"Isn't it just," Serena replied.

"If indeed I am Diverging again." Malkir unconsciously rubbed his lower back. "There are probably many versions of me roaming the Multiverse with the same set of runes on their backs. Raising the awareness of Orcus."

"You know the rest of all have no problem at all staying in the same person," Andrew laughed and the other joined in as well. The night was almost over and the darkness outside the tavern was beginning to lift..

"I don't seem to have a great deal of control about it at this present time," Malkir replied with a simple shrug of the shoulders.

"He appeared to be displeased that you were diverging." Littleby was not convinced that Nyon could also be the dead god Orcus as some of the pieces in the puzzle did not fit logically. "That was the impression that I got."

"I think that he is displeased at no temple being built, but also that he Converged in the first place." Serena could not make up her mind about whether who Nyon was and was not. It was all very confusing, especially after a long day's travel. "He wanted to have many Malkirs running around with the runes on their backs, dedicated to him."

"If that is correct," the dwarven scholar decided to keep an open mind on who and what Nyon might be, but the evidence so far indicated that he was not a dead god returned.

"I hate to say it but I think that Littleby is right," Serena had made up her mind that Nyon might very well be the dead god brought back to life somehow and now masquerading as another deity.

"So you think that somewhat inadvertently I am raising the number of..." Malkir tried to think of what the effects of multiples of him running around might mean. He'd never come across one of his Divergent selves, but had witnessed the results of their activities.

"No of course not." Littleby took the scholarly approach that would have made a Guvner proud and examined the evidence from all angles. "Because like it or not we all have potentially an infinite number of divergent selves. Sorry to burst your bubble Malkir."

"However, I am one of the select few that we know about who has Diverged." Malkir pointed out.

"Malkir, would it be feasible that when we go back to Sigil that you go back to the tavern?" Serena had heard only a little about the Convergence and her intuition told her that the answer might lie in the place where it took place.

"Hmm, I'll go back to Crowson and have a chat." Malkir laughed at the thought of turning up on Crowson's doorstep and telling him that he'd Diverged. As he laughed, his voice became amplified as if there were many voices all laughing at the same time. The others who were in the room saw Malkir had changed and in the place of a single person sitting down, there were hundreds of people all occupying the same space - each super-imposed upon the other.

Serena gasped in surprise and moved away from him on the bed. "Sweet Tomeri, Malkir look at yourself."

"I feel myself." Malkir had stopped laughing and did not feel any different to before.

"Yes," Andrew confirmed. "There was something strange going on."

"Well," the mystic looked troubled by what the others had told him and a vague memory was lurking at the back of his mind. "If there are two of you saying it then perhaps there is something wrong."

"I though that I saw Captain Malkir." Littleby stared intensely at the mystic as if he was seeing many people in the same place. "Do it again."

"I'd rather not," the mystic replied, genuinely concerned about what happened.

"Are you feeling OK?" Serena asked, worried that Malkir might have changed in some way by the brief moment of Divergence.

"Yes," the mystic replied, not feeling in any way different or ill. "Well do you want to describe what you saw?"

"There were lot of transparent.." Serena tried to describe it but words failed her.

"Have you ever stood between two mirrors and there are copies of you as far as the eye can see?" Andrew asked.

"Yes," Malkir replied, not sure what Andrew was getting at.

"Well, it was like that but they were all different." Andrew sat back in his seat, satisfied that he'd described it well.

"Ah. That would be a Convergence." Malkir nodded, having finally remembered where he'd heard many of his voice all at the same time. When he was on the Outlands travelling to Curst and he had recorded a description of the portal on the crystal mimir. As he listened to the recording of his voice, for a moment he'd heard his voice multiplied many times.

"Your voice sounded like there were many." Serena commented.

"It has happened before." Malkir stated. The image that Andrew's words had conjured in his mind helped to sort out the various parts of himself. In the tower he'd seen the most likely versions of himself, but the mystic realised that there might be more. By lining them up on either side of himself mentally he could imagine a long line stretching out in both directions forever.

"So much research," the dwarven scholar said with a sigh. "So what you are saying is that Agar is and always was Nyon?"

"Yes." Malkir replied, certain that the elderly merchant was the same as Nyon. "The way he walked in his smug way and revealed something to us."

"We could ask him tomorrow," Littleby suggested.

"I would not count on that," Serena commented as she climbed off the bed.

"Well, Deus is following the modrons. We'll see him tomorrow." Littleby thought about going to ask the halfling merchant right now, but realised that he might be indisposed.

"I would not count on that either." Serena shook her head and got ready to return to her room.

"Malkir, be well." The heart seer of Tomeri gave the mystic a big hug and a small kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, if I come down in the morning looking different...." The mystic was unsure of what advise to give his friends. "Then pause."

"What about if six or seven hundred of you come down," Andrew joked.

"I'm not paying for all of them to have breakfast," Littleby muttered and the others laughed.

"The great Malkir March, but not so organised." Malkir joined in with a laugh of his own. Serena gave him another quick hug and drew on her strength as a heart seer to give her friend some additional strength. Malkir returned to his room and so did the others, finally getting to sleep as the village of Ecstasy was just waking up.

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Bloomin' dying gods and their everful schemes...bloomin' Divergence...argh...

We get to meet my alternate character soon. By which I don't mean an alternative Malkir, but an entirely new character. You'll like him. He's very friendly.

 

[simmo]

Argh! Dictaphone broke last night and had to get a replacement this morning, this means no updates for a few days.

Coming soon: a new character joins the party. The heroes ride forth and Serena's Garden changes yet again